Feeding

Lyrics

This conversation's been going on for hours Keep talking and talking and talking and talking Have you ever noticed the effect of mind powers Mute talking and talking and talking and talking George Bush sponsored Osama bin Laden Keep insisting, insisting, insisting, insisting Aw man, I have so many problems Keep talking and talking and talking and talking They keep sniffing I keep thinking, enough Why we had to go through that Could've sniffed enough yay to get my Pro Tools back Man, this bitch has some huge ass cans So simple, simple, simple, simple I wanna fuck this bitch with my whole hand So nasty and nasty and nasty and nasty Man, I want this chick to give me mad brain Keep talking and talking and talking and talking We should lick a chick and run the damn train So slimy, slimy, slimy, slimy You damn sickos We got sisters, you fuck How we get so off track? Should've got our mind right and got our Pro Tools back All them cheesecakes and them huge ass dinner plates All them damn pizzas and mayonnaise on steaks Man, this diet talk, Susan's summer water loss More than Miami male only eating steamed moss A figure eight sauce to keep all the weight off Might cause tremors or some type of slight cough Or you can kick it more, dressed like a college whore Buy all your meals at the damn weight store So hungry that you even eat doors Even eat humans and gum off floors Instead of exercise little more Eat your way out of overeating even acorns I have no idea why I'm so fat Keep eating and eating and eating and eating Ding Dongs, Diet Coke, and loud breathing Keep feeding and feeding and feeding and feeding That four blocks is too far away Keep driving and driving and driving and driving I do pilates and yoga everyday Keep talking and talking and talking and talking We're so obese It's real nasty and sick I'm surprised we don't break the Earth Instead of buying ice creams and get our Pro Tools first All these rap takes and thousand dollar of beat tapes And whole rap songs of how much the rap makes All these rap fakes Frosted Flakes The whole game's like a fat kid eating pound cakes Rap business plan, teach the kids to send spam Profit anyway you can, rules in this land I don't care if you got to sell a pig ham I don't care if you sell a girl to a man All this rap shit is so bland I recall days when fellas would lend a helping hand Now it's embarrassing to be a hip hop fan Seems as the whole game's run by the damn Klan Man, this rap shit is out of control Keep rapping and rapping and rapping and rapping Actor thugs with guns and good clothes Keep talking and talking and talking and talking Or some speeches about "Man, rap's dead" So snobby, they snobby, they snobby, they snobby Land some shit over everybody's head So boring and boring and boring and boring We'll have the rules on Karaoke, emcees Save your receipt for that If there's still the thirty days, take your Pro Tools back